Skip to main content

When it isn't Nine to Five..

Every Monday to Friday, we start our morning with a rush only to scramble into our desks and then become extremely stationary. 

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.... 

As the clock strikes five, 'The Rush' returns. We reboot our systems to "Seamless Navigation" mode and zip through crowds of people or cars or both. We, the people of this world, serving various corporations and companies, have inherited the power of going through days in 'work-mode'. I, for instance, channelise all my focus on a screen filled with jargons, all my strength in holding my butt in the chair instead of dancing, and all my intelligence in typing mails testing my true sense of English vocabulary. Till this date i hold the record of not having used abuse in any reply, though only my desk-neighbours are witness to how many i would have mouthed while typing those mails.

But then comes along a day where it isn't about 'nine to five'... well to be fair, two days... The inevitable "Weekend". The two days we actually work for, for five whole days! Mostly i spend my "days" catching up with myself or friends or both but every once in a while, i have a date...

A date with a new culture, at a place beyond my work and chores. A date with me, in a new city... And I fall in love again with myself, with the new city, with the idea of having weekends. These few dates makes up for all the hours i spend in a train, at a cold desk, eyes glued to screen and ever predictable cafeteria lunches! These dates aren't about nine to five, though they could very well be about check-ins and check-outs or arrivals and departures, but yet they seem to de-stress you. Just about enough to make you crave for another in a couple of weeks' time. 

Its not the buildings that call me despite being an architect. Its the city life, people gathering at a square, the families at a picnic, the school kids at a museum and youngsters at a pub. It is amazing how much one learns by just being a silent observer. Often I take along a book to a quaint little cafe on the streets and end up just looking at all that that surrounds me. The book lying on my table, untouched. There is a thrill a new place exudes. A sense of excitement with the intuitive caution just creeping in. And I continue my stroll along a canal, on the winding path, smiling away to myself as I hear the city unfolding its story in layers.

I hear a little whisper as i write. An itinerary drawing itself out as i let my mind wander...
a craving stronger than my need for coffee. A get-away from all the digital madness around me. I need to find new streets again to walk in the sun and get tanned. New histories to unravel and take in the rustic flavour of the museums. As my stomach growls, breathe in air full of different kinds of sweets and savouries awaiting to hit my taste buds. And with this i bid adieu as i head off to find me another date...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

‘Nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.’

I'm in love with Sherlock Holmes. Well I always was. He is the witty, observant, strictly logical, overtly rational and the exceptionally eccentric detective, everyone is bound to fall in love with. The new series (relatively new as compared to the books of 19th century), has put me in the re-reading mode, in an attempt to understand the mind of one of the most famous fictitious detective woven into the literary world. My love for detective stories obviously started with the ever famous "Famous Five"s and "Secret Seven"s. As i grew up, i transitioned to "Nancy Drew", and even dreamed of being a successful detective one day. Truth be told, which of us hasn't thought of such wonderfully exotic careers while we were growing up, right? All the books on detective stories lead me to believe, this was the best profession out there beyond the school years. Alas, what a child dreams are innocent and often forgotten as soon as a better prospect comes al...

Golden daffodils and all that matters...

Ok so this isn't a story, just thoughts stitched together... Thoughts that come while i walk to my morning train everyday. They needed to see light and this blog is after all about thoughts that "pop"... So... I love talking and people who know me would agree that I love it. I enjoy telling stories and when i cannot write everything down, I let my mouth take over my writing abilities and typing skills.  But what i enjoy most is "pondering". Not necessarily being pensive... but just questioning things around us. Like who decided the name of the days. I mean what does "Monday" even mean? (by the way 'Monday' is derived from "Moon Day" of the Old English) Or "February"? I cant even say "February" without tripping on my tongue. Why do we even have names for days or months... why not just a number. Well i'm sure someone will trace history and get me the answers, but its not the answers i look for.  What I...

I grew up with Tweety...

"I grew up with Tweety. And now there is Twitter.  Everything is a tweet, whether it be a yellow bird or blue" As of now, today, we all have opinions about everything. As we stand and watch the world go by, we point our little fingers at 'everything in our view', say a word or two with intense passion and then on approach of another 'thing in view' forget our previous temperament and move on to passionately support the next big thing. I am currently sitting in my office and reading various articles and forming my opinions as I read. Throughout the day, I appreciate certain things and condemn most that come along. How conveniently does one move from one subject to another is probably accredited to our unlimited access to information and the ability to publicly broadcast our emotions without processing it. This is not an article denouncing the entire system of sharing, broadcasting or in today's world 'tweeting' our thoughts. We as t...